Bolivia's southwest

A big chunk of my time in Bolivia was spent in the southwest, a Patagonia-esque treasure in its rugged, vast, and largely untouched quality. Salt flats, red rocks, geysers, volcanos, deserts, multi-colored lakes and mountains, flamingos, ostriches, vicuñas, llamas - the list goes on!

Landscapes similar to those of the American southwest just outside the town of Tupiza (near where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid were finally killed)

Rock formations formed by water and wind erosion

Vicuñas! (in the llama family but much smaller, native to the Andes)

This was a typical scene on the jeep tour - fording semi-frozen rivers through deep ice

Laguna Celeste (sky blue lake) with a volcanic peak in the background

This area was called the Desert of Dalí, because the mountain's mixed color palette resembled that of the Spanish painter

Laguna Verde (green lake) alongside Licancabur volcano. I saw this same peak from the Chilean side back in 2009.

Bubbling lava and geysers at 5,000m (16,400 ft) above sea level

Laguna Colorada (pink lake), with its native flamingos

Pretending to hold up the "rock tree" with tour group friends

Hanging out literally 2m away from beautiful flamingos

Watching the sunrise in the middle of the Uyuni salt flat

The whole floor of the salt flat has these hexagons, formed by the tiny bubbles that rise when the salt crystals form

One of many fun pictures from the salt flat - it's all about perspective :)

Last stop: the train cemetery in Uyuni

La Paz

La Paz was a warm and welcoming place, despite its chilly temperatures (it's the world's highest capital, and winter at 12,000 feet is no beach vacation). The city is quite interesting in its own right, but it also fascinated me in its stark contrast to Lima. Peru's capital is totally disconnected from the rest of the country, both economically and culturally. In Bolivia, which recently added "Plurinational State" to its official name, the rural indigenous cultures are celebrated not as historical heritage, but as an essential living component of Bolivia today. Half the people on the streets of La Paz were wearing traditional (not western) clothes, and the few wealthy skyscrapers were not the center of focus. The city's red-brick buildings spill down over the ridges to coat the entire valley, with the snowy peak of Illimani looming large above the rooftops.

Looking out over the city towards Illimani

San Francisco church and plaza

Evo's name and face are frequent sights, always accompanied by both the Bolivian flag (left) and the indigenous wiphala flag (right)

Plaza Murillo, on the Spanish side of the city, is home to the cathedral, the legislative and presidential palaces, and many many pigeons

Tucumanas and salteñas are the Bolivian version of empanadas, and are sold at street side carts on every corner

Also on many corners are La Paz's shoe shiners, who typically wear ski masks to cover their faces. As the feet are the most shameful part of the body for the Aymara, those who work as shoe shiners don't want to be recognized as such.

Rows of stalls in one of the central markets, set up in a multi-level building reminiscent of a parking garage or library stacks

In addition to regular markets, La Paz's witch's market offers amusing home remedies and unique items like llama fetuses (used in traditional rites to bless newly constructed buildings)

Anything unusual in this photo? Traffic-herding youth dressed as zebras are part of a new government program for disadvantaged youth - still don't really understand the connection there, but those zebras were everywhere!

Sopa de maní (peanut soup) is a traditional La Paz dish

I also got to visit Tiwanaku, a set of pre-Incan ruins outside La Paz

Leaving La Paz on a set of looong bus rides, I decided to break up the journey by stopping in Sucre, a beautiful city of white colonial buildings and cobblestone streets. Tranquil and temperate, Sucre made me wish I could stay longer!

My other in-transit stop was Potosí, known for the wealth extracted from nearby Cerro Rico's (Rich Mountain) silver mines

Lake Titicaca

Heading south from Lima for my post-Peace Corps Bolivian adventure, the first stop was Lake Titicaca. At 3800 meters (12,500 ft) of elevation, Lake Titicaca is the world's 18th-largest lake by surface area and largest among high-altitude lakes. Since it's the biggest lake I've ever navigated, I was in awe of its sheer scope, and the points where its water stretched all the way to the horizon, as an ocean would. The lake is a remnant of Lago Ballivian, an ancient inland sea, and sits on the border of Peru and Bolivia. 

Naturally, I started on the Peruvian side, staying in the city of Puno and boating out to explore the 75+ floating islands made of totora reeds. Each island's evolving engineering was fascinating to learn about, and it was interesting to see how the current inhabitants try to keep the historic reed- and fish-based culture alive.

Also near Puno were the ruins of Sillustani, with numerous tower-style tombs like this one perched high above a smaller lake:

Puno sits in the altiplano region of Peru - a high-altitude but generally flat area, most known for being quite windswept and producing lots of potatoes. I decided to have a typical altiplano meal: alpaca steak and papas.

Each region, and even town, in Peru has a different kind of typical bread. Puno's appeared to be this yummy cheese-bread, which I of course sampled.

After Puno, it was time to cross the border to Copacabana, the lakeside town on the Bolivian side of Titicaca. While the floating islands were nice, the lake's highlight for me was definitely the Isla del Sol (island of the sun) on the Bolivian side. I spent a day hiking the island north to south, and was treated to lots of its namesake sol and beautiful sweeping views of the surrounding water and mountains.

Alpaca friend :)

Good eats

Lima is home to two of the world's 50 best restaurants: Central (#15), and Astrid y Gastón (#18). Naturally, these places are quite expensive, but compared to a top-50 restaurant in the States or Europe they are in fact dirt-cheap. Some friends and I decided we needed to take advantage of these culinary opportunities, and that some fine dining would be an excellent way to celebrate finishing two years of Peace Corps - best. decision. ever.

First: dinner at Central. Steve and I enjoyed a delicious three-course meal, whose highlights were a hot ceviche appetizer and a goat cheese-chocolate mousse-crystallized carrot sugar dessert. The restaurant itself was incredibly normal in appearance, with a fairly small dining room, but it was cool to see into the open kitchen and watch head chef Virgilio Martínez in action.

Steve excited about ceviche caliente

The crazy dessert, which was for some reason served with dry ice alongside

Second: the 29-course tasting menu "experience" at Astrid y Gastón. This was one of the most incredible things I have done in Peru, or possibly in all my travels, and something I will likely never repeat (because it would cost beaucoup de $$ anywhere else). Head chef Gastón Acurio is right in describing this production not as a meal, but as an experience: the setting of a beautiful restored colonial mansion, the impeccable service of a full-on army of waitstaff and their never-ending flatware, the artistic presentation of each and every dish, and the food itself where literally every bite was a fancy and creative piece of perfection. It was awe-inspiring, and it was delicious. Below is a sampling of some favorite dishes…

"Roots and herbs" - paper-thin crackers made with herbs and served in an actual tree branch

"Huatia" - a traditional Andean way of cooking potatoes and meat is to bury the food and fire underground. A&G recreated this by cooking these potatoes in an adobe brick, then served with various sauces including alpaca peanut, wild mushroom, and multiple different cheese-herb ones

"Trout, chirimoya, duck" - pretty self-explanatory name, but a surprising and amazing combination of flavors

"Coins" - various flavors of chocolate coins, dusted with sparkling gold; the best one was a milk chocolate-quinua one

Dinner crew: Emily, Lindsay, Chris, me

But as good as top-50 restaurants are, regular old Peruvian food is pretty darn tasty too. Consequently my last meal in Peru was one of the classic favorites I'll miss the most: ceviche and chicharrones (fried fish/shellfish).

Chau Cajamarca

After all my goodbyes had been said in site, it was on to Cajamarca for another round: a despedida with the Cajamarca volunteer family.

I also checked a few final items off my Cajamarca bucket list, such as the Ransom Room (where Inca king Atahualpa was held by the Spaniards before his execution)

Starbucks invaded Cajamarca literally the week before we left -  probably better that way

Gabe and me

Saying goodbye to the best: Cajamarca Peru 19ers

Laguna de los Condores

In June, Chris and I decided to check one final item off our Peru bucket list: the 3-day Laguna de los Condores trek in the northern region of Amazonas. This trek is raved about by the few volunteers that make time to do it, for the pristine beauty of the cloud forests around the laguna, the up-close encounters with archaeological sites, and the off-the-beaten-path aspect the trek retains due to its remote location.

After a long bus ride where each curve of the road brought us inches away from vertical precipices, we arrived in Leymebamba, the rural town that serves as the trek's departure point. Our volunteer friend Andy, who lives in Leymebamba, introduced us to our guide, Clemente, and we spent the next few hours visiting the numerous spots in town necessary for pre-trek preparations. There was the national park entrance fee paid at one house, use of the bunkhouse and stables at another, then the rowboat rental fee, pairs of knee-high rubber mud boots, food shopping, and finally a visit to Clemente's house so we'd know where to meet him in the morning. This ramble about town, rather than a one-time lump payment to a single tour agency, was definitely part of the charm of the journey.

Early the next morning, we set off: Clemente, the pack-horse, and Chris and I alternating between walking and riding a second horse. We walked for ten solid hours through a landscape that slowly but constantly transformed: farmland, meadows, dry forest, cloud forest, rock fields, barren high mountain slopes, pampas, humid and jungly riverland, etc. etc. It was incredibly beautiful, and undisturbed by human touch except for the occasional cowherd shelter. The mud boots turned out to be worth every inch of rubber (despite the horrible blisters they caused) - at points we sank in thick mud or water up to our knees! And this was during the dry season, so I couldn't imagine walking the same route during the rains. Just as dusk was beginning to gather, we arrived at the farmhouse where we'd be staying and collapsed into sleep soon after.

On the second day we walked ten minutes to the ridge overlooking the laguna that gives the trek its name. There are actually no longer condors living in the area, but the name stuck. The lake itself is a starkly beautiful deep black, taking on such a dark color because of its extreme depth, surrounded entirely by dense green cloud forest. All the moisture in the air and soil gives the environment the humid and wet feel of a jungle, despite being at high elevation. We uncovered our rowboat and paddled across the still black water, which was a perfect mirror reflection of the surrounding mountains. On the other side, Clemente set some fishing lines, and then we embarked on a 40-minute hand-over-hand scramble up the side of the overgrown cliff. Our destination were the six chullpas (mausoleums) tucked into the rock face high above the lake. Built by the Chachapoyas people to house their mummified dead, the stone structures are very well-preserved, and the 200+ mummies found there remain in the museum in Leymebamba. The afternoon finished out with some tranquil hours of fishing, and with just simple lines and flies we caught enough trout for dinner!

The chullpas are nestled into the side of this mountain

Day three was another ten-hour stroll, reversing our course back into Leymebamba. We arrived exhausted and blistered, but both feeling that it was one of our favorite adventures in Peru.

Baños, Ecuador

This post belongs in October 2013, along with the rest of the photos from Lindsay and my trip to Ecuador. However, at the time we went, the town of Baños was on the Peace Corps list of prohibited travel sites for volunteers, due to the semi-active status of the nearby Tungurahua volcano. So, despite Baños being one of the coolest parts of our trip, these stories were held in reserve until such time as they couldn't result in us getting kicked out of the agency: end of service!

We were lucky to arrive in Baños the day after Tungurahua had become more active than usual, allowing us to visit a (safe-distance) lookout point and watch the lava and sparks spew out and glow red against the black of the night sky. This was one of the most awe-inspiring experiences I've had, witnessing an erupting volcano firsthand and feeling the force of one of the most powerful and beautiful spectacles nature has to offer. We couldn't get any worthwhile pictures in the dark, but it's a memory that I know I'll preserve even without photos.

Our days in Baños were spent playing in the great outdoors: white-water rafting, biking, visiting beautiful rivers and waterfalls, bungee jumping off bridges, and canyoning/rappelling down some small-scale falls.

Ready for rafting!

The bridge jump

Waterfall rappelling

At the bottom of all the waterfalls

*Side note: I am updating these blogs from the luxury land of America, and these photos just uploaded in approximately 0.2 seconds - SO fast!